Poems and Drabbles
by wolfinsheepsclothing-026
Summary: The two categories I chose for this were only some of the inspiration for the poems and stories you are about to read.
1. A Change of Light

(A/N All these stories take place in completely different universes, although I will use the same names in most Drabbles. And the poems are just some small verses I came up with. Enjoy!)

A Change of Light

'I can't believe I agreed to this' thought Jasmine as she looked in the mirror. She saw her friends behind her, one smiling and the other had a mixture of shock and awe. Her attention turned to the clothes she was _going_ to wear today, then she looked at what she _was_ wearing today. A black shirt with a white skull that had a rose going through its eyes, topped with a leather jacket, some ripped black jeggings, dark purple combat boots with some gray swirls, and to top of the outfit were leather fingerless gloves. Then she looked back up at her makeup. Her hair was died black with silver streaks in it and she had on black eyeliner and dark purple lipstick. Her fingernails were painted and she had on a studded collar. "Why did I agree to this again?" she asked her excited friend.

"You said you would help with my project, come on it's only a month!" she pleaded

"Ok, ok. I think I got the act down."

"Ah ah, not an act. This is _you_ for the next month." she interrupted.

"We ready?" asked the other friend "We have to leave in the next ten minutes or we're going to be late."

"Ok we're coming. Come on Jaz."

"I hate that nickname." she mumbled

"That's your name for the next month." Her friend said finishing the conversation. The entire ride to school Jasmine grabbed every piece of her that was not scared of attention, which wasn't a lot, and prepared herself for the next month of hell.

She walked into first period ten minutes late that day. It was supposed to be five minutes, but she spent the other five pacing outside deciding if this was worth it. The meanest teacher was in there, as well as her crush. Technically she had a boyfriend, but a girl still daydreams. She took a deep breath, put on her best not-caring look, and opened the door. The entire class went silent as she walked, with her held high and expression blank, to her seat. She through her bag on the ground and put her feet on the desk. The teacher walked right up to her and usually his gaze would make her shrink in her seat, but this time she stared right at him. Then he asked, "Exactly why, Jasmine, are you dressed like that? And why are you ten minutes late?!" he screamed the last part, but she didn't flinch.

"I'm late cause I didn't want to hear your annoying Mickey voice scream out names incorrectly." she said staring at her nails. She looked up at him, with an eyebrow up, and saw his mouth was hung open. She looked around, everyone's mouth was open. Jasmine, the shy, quiet, and nice girl who never spoke back, just told off the meanest teacher in school history. Her eyes landed on her crush, who also stared at her in surprise. He was wearing a blue shirt with a leather jacket on, regular jeans, and black combat boots.

"Do you want a referral?" asked the teacher, who had snapped out of his trance.

She looked back at him and smirked, "Maybe, maybe I just wanted to put some freaking sense in your thick skull!" she screamed. Again he was stunned, then he shook his head and said quietly.

"Umm, l-lunch detention. Now back on topic…" he began to drag on about Romeo and Juliet. No one was paying attention though, all eyes were still on Jasmine. That's how it went for the next two classes, she would walk in about five minutes late, sit down, probably tell of the teacher, and act like nothing happened.

Then lunch came around and she was about to do one of the two things she wanted to use this new personality for. Scare her boyfriend. He was always the first or third person in the lunch room so she carefully put herself three people behind him, no one said anything as she grabbed a tray from someone and stood there, and waited till he sat down. Once he did she sat down right across from him. He hadn't seen her yet, but then she grabbed one of his chicken rings and he looked up in annoyance expecting to see his regular girlfriend. But he was met with Jaz, the punk bad girl who did whatever. His jaw dropped and she giggled, then she his jaw back into place, ate two more of his chicken and went to sit with the two best friends who helped her with this scam. "Startle Will, check." she said and they talked for a while. Then about twenty minutes before the bell rang Jaz moved next to her crush. Everyone else moved away from her, but he was caught up in his book.

Before she did anything she checked to make sure Alex and Jennifer, her friends, were keeping Will busy. She didn't need drama right now. Then she put a smirk on her face and pulled the book down. She heard a sigh come from the massive head of hair that was Wesley as he looked down. "What the heck Ash-" he stopped as he looked up.

"Ain't Ashley, Wes." Jaz answered leaning forward a bit. "Just me." He was stunned, he had seen her in class but this close was just too much.

He gulped and tried to say something, "H-hello Jasmi-" but she interrupted him.

"Ah uh, just Jaz." she swung herself around the table and sat next to him.

"Um, heh, Jaz. Aren't you a bit close?" he tried to scoot away, but she had locked his leg with hers.

"Whatever are you talkin about?" she grinned and leaned in more. She could hear him gulp and saw him open his mouth to say something, but the bell rung. "Oh well." She said and got up in one swift movement. "Talk later Wes." she walked away and out the doors before anyone else.

The rest of the month her boyfriend got in on it, as did her other friends, but everyone else was oblivious. She continued to flirt with Wesley and once he even leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped him and walked away laughing. It was cruel, but she had an image, as well as a boyfriend, to keep. By the end of the month, once everyone was finally used to Jaz, Jasmine came back and once again everyone was confused. Only her friends knew, and she eventually told Wesley. For the rest of the year everyone called her a bi-polar freak, but she would pull out just a little bit of Jaz and they would shut up. So I guess you could say, they lived happily ever after.


	2. Demons (A poem)

Demons

You can chase down your demons

You can make them go away

But there is always one

That will always stay

This demon is small

Shouldn't do much

But this demon is Depression

And it'll make you its lunch

Depression grows and grows

Feeding off your anger, your sadness

Making you feel like nothing

And you can't stop the utter madness

But you can starve it

Find something happy, something amazing

And even if you feel down

Never forget to chase.


	3. Colors of Love

Colors of Love

Some people think you never truly see colors

If you don't have love

You can't see a sunset during summer

You can't see the pure white of a dove

I don't like to think this way

Anyone could see beauty, if they just look

Some people can't see any day

Yet they still find love, some straight from a book

Love can make colors brighter

But that's because you know what to find

Colors do seem lighter

But it's only in your mind

Colors and love are nothing alike

Love and colors are just the seed

And it just feels right

That is all you need


	4. Outcasts

Outcasts

I always seem to be friends with the outcasts. I never liked that word, made me feel like I was some alien thing or like I'm not worth anything. I've been called a lot of things; Freak, Loser, Twitch, Psycho, Fat. None of them bothered me much, I got over them. I embraced that I was different, but "Outcast" always hurt. Made me feel like a joke. I don't like being laughed at, I don't like being the joke.

My friends didn't like being called that either. They never said anything, but I knew. It was that look, I knew that look. I see it everyday in the mirror. I felt worthless watching them, not being able to help because they wouldn't tell me. I have a deep hatred for the world, but I will always have a soft spot for outcasts. Freaks, psychos, and anyone who gets cast out because they weren't made in a factory like everyone else. They were the projects that got rejected, but still worked. People say we will never fit in, but they were the ones who made us closer together. We are the Outcasts and we will never give up.


	5. Issues

Issues

So, it has finally come to this. I was sitting in a pretty large room with a man in a white coat and a clipboard in one hand and his other on a red button which most likely called security, or the S.W.A.T. team, wouldn't be surprised. I wasn't exactly stable, but that wasn't my fault. You know that I think about it, the situation started out like this, but with my psychiatrist. Yes, now I remember, it was _his _fault. It was his fault, and I guess mine for not dealing with the situation. Let me give you some context.

It started out as one of my regular, weekly visits, but he decided to try something different. It was supposed to help with my emotional issues, like expressing them more and stuff. He said he was going to leave the room, and if I needed him he would be in the office down the hall, he left some pictures and said if I needed to break something that I could. Once he left I got up and saw the pictures. My seventh grade teacher, dead, my grandma, dead, Robin Williams, dead, my brother. Alive. I was confused, then I saw on the back on the picture of my brother that said some random words. I can't really remember them now, but after reading them I felt different. I looked at the pictures and felt immense sadness, then I looked at my brother's picture and felt furious. I ripped his picture and grabbed one of the pillows on the couch and screamed into it. I wanted to break something, I always want to break something, I realized. I looked at the lamp right in front of me and hesitated at first, but then I picked it up and threw it with all my might against the opposite wall. That was the first time I ever broke something on purpose, it felt amazing. I looked around the room and suddenly saw everything as how it would look if it was broken. I pushed down the bookshelf and then jumped on it, breaking it open. I flipped his desk, he took out his computer, smart. I even punched five holes in the wall and tore up his desk chair. It felt so good! I didn't want to stop, then I realized I didn't have to stop. I could keep breaking things, I smiled and broke down the door with my foot. I walked down the hall, but not towards his office, I walked to the exit a humongous grin on my face. Every door I passed I punched and left a decent sized hole. No one did anything until I kicked the door that led to the reception off its hinges. My mom stared at me with wide eyes, eyes full of fear. I didn't waver, I went around the reception tearing up chairs and punching the walls until someone stabbed something in my neck.

I woke up sometime the next day, a pain in my head and very hazy eyesight. I remembered everything, but I didn't have the urge to break anything anymore. I walked out of my room, how did I get home?, and before I fully emerged I heard my mom talking to my dad about how I was still going to school no matter what the doctor said. I could control it, I was capable. I didn't know what they were talking about, until I went to school. I said goodbye to them and went off to the bus stop. Everything went smoothly, until the only annoying kid at my bus stop called me a slut. Usually I just sighed and plugged in my music, but this time I got pissed. I was suddenly next to him and his neck was in my hand. I was pressing him against a tree and chocking him. When I realized what was happening I let go in shock and nobody talked to me for the rest of the time until the bus came. I was silent on the bus and for first period. I was okay, nothing was wrong I just… snapped. When second period came is groaned and got my stuff, I hated second period. The teacher was so intense and always called me out. Today was no different, except for one thing. The period started out normally, him calling attendance and then coming up to my desk if I had the non-existent notes we took on Friday. I said we didn't take notes that day and he laughed cruelly and said if I didn't have them, then I would have detention again. Normally I would've accepted the punishment and just bury my nose in a book, but today was not a normal day. I growled, very audibly, grabbed his stupid green striped tie, and smashed his head against my desk. I left a dent in my desk and in his head, he was also bleeding. I was suddenly very calm, I turned to my friend and told her to call the office. She did, her hand shaking the whole time, they answered and I said that they needed to send the nurse and Officer Olson to Mr. Gath's room. Then I turned around and asked Sam, the strongest kid in the room, to hold my hands behind my chair until they came. He obliged and the whole room was silent until the nurse and Officer Olson came in. The nurse very carefully tended to Mr. Gath and I asked Officer Olson to put his handcuffs on me.

That is pretty much how I ended up in this room. How I ended up breaking a doctor's neck, shooting a S.W.A.T. team officer, and killing about five other people. Whatever my psychiatrist did to me defiantly helped me expressing my emotions, but there is a reason I push them down and hide them. He found out yesterday, and today I ended up accidentally killing the president and dieing. I now haunt your computer, thank you for reading. Have a nice April Fools.

-The End-


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